Loser
by Cate Eliot
Summary: One morning, under the sunrise in San Francisco, Aoife and Niten talk about fate and regrets. In more than just a surface conversation, Niten gains insight into the red headed warrior and her past. A one-shot. Complete.


**A/N: All characters and plots belong to Michael Scott, Random House, and affiliates. Only the story line and dialogue are mine. This is one of my all-time favorite series and the relationship between Aoife and Scatty is the best. Just a little one shot inspired by one of the book podcasts. I appreciate all feedback, good or bad. Please review. **

"_Aoife just seems like the looser in the family. She lost Cuchulain to Scatty. She lost her twin. She was always compared as less than her sister. She stayed when Scatty left…"_

"Do you ever regret what you've done in your life?"

Aoife of the Shadows looked up for a moment from her book and found that Niten had paused from his sanding and looking at her intently.

She blinked cautiously once. Their normal quiet mornings were rarely broken by conversation.

"Pardon?" she said, calmly in formal Japanese.

She glanced back down at her ancient Greek text. "Do you ever wish you had done things differently with your life? Become something else, said different things, even stay silent?"

There was a quiet pause before she answered. "If I've learned anything from my ten thousand years it is that what has happened, happened. There is nothing to be gained from _what ifs_."

She nodded once like she was more reassuring herself than Niten. The Japanese swordsman watched her for a moment more before moving back to his boat.

"This is very true," he said democratically. "But when you were small did you ever once think that you were going to be a warrior?"

Aoife glanced back up and gazed from the porch over to the boat. The morning sun shined its hues in pink and pastel yellow down onto the water and reflected up to where Niten was currently standing.

"No. But I suppose those things are predetermined before us. Fate is an extremely strong thing. If I was not supposed to be a warrior, then I would not have picked up my first sword with such ease," she rattled off without really thinking.

She fell silent and watched the water twirl back and forth like subtle dancers on a stage. Were there things she regretted?

"So you believe in higher powers?"

Niten's voice was casual, but there was an undertone of curiosity beneath it. They rarely spoke of such a personal nature. Aoife could tell the man was interested.

"No."

There was a short pause.

"But you just said…"

"Fate is fate, Niten. It doesn't act like a person or a thing. It simply is and was. It's why everything happens the way it supposed to…"

Aoife felt a sudden lapse of frustration eek out from under her skin. Why was this so hard to explain? Why wouldn't the words just come out?

Scathach had spoken with her about it before. She understood it perfectly. Things were in line, like stars in the heaven. What ever happened, has already happen—

_Scathach. _

"Aoife?"

Niten paused against on the side of the boat, watching the red headed warrior paused with eyes wide and frozen.

"Scathach," she whispered. "I would go back and tell her I did not mean what I said…"

Niten looked stricken with the sudden revelation. His dark eyes marked her and for any sign that she would continue. None arose.

"You never speak of it," he spoke carefully. "But I know you were once close."

"She's my twin, Niten," Aoife whispered. "And I destroyed everything. I did not really love him. Cuchulain. I only thought I did. I was jealous of how he looked at her and so I told myself that I loved him and in the end, I'm the reason he's dead. I lost and I knew it. If I had not said anything, then he would not be dead and she would not hate me."

Niten did not know what to say. "I—"

She shook her head, red hair twisting in the sudden movement. "No, I'm sorry. I do not know where that came from. Forgive the outburst." She automatically looked back down at the heavy book in her lap.

She could feel Niten's eyes on her as the sound of his sanding continued. "You do not need to be ashamed of feeling things so powerfully, you know. It doesn't make you a lesser warrior … or a lesser person."

Aoife's eyes froze on the page and her mind reeled before her green eyes looked up. "It is too late for some things to be rectified, old friend, sometimes battle scars are too badly damaged to heal over."

It was clear that the conversation was over and Niten inclined his head slightly, acknowledging this. "I would have married the village girl I loved."

Aoife raised a perfectly waxed eyebrow. "Well, well. A village girl? I would have never guessed you were the village girl type."

Niten chuckled, his long strokes moving back and forth with a finely craft sander. "Oh yes, Korina. She was a little thing, long black hair. She aspired to be school teacher, though at the time her family were farmers and she had no chance of ever becoming education. She was mortal as well and by the time I had become ageless, the native tribes had taken over the rice markets and she was gone before I could propose."

Aoife chuckled. "She would never be able to handle you, old friend," Aoife said matter-of-factly, popping her sunglasses on her face as the sun moved higher up into the sky.


End file.
